Lilium
by Unholy Blight
Summary: Vergil recounts his time in Hell...
1. Chapter 1

_Os iusti meditabitur sapientiam,_

_Et lingua eius loquetur indicium._

_Beatus vir qui suffert tentationem,_  
_Quoniqm cum probates fuerit accipient coronam vitae._

_Kyrie, fons bonitatis._  
_Kyrie, ignis divine, eleison._  
_O quam sancta, quam serena,_  
_Quam benigma, quam amoena esse Virgo creditur._  
_O quam sancta, quam serena,_  
_Quam benigma, quam amoena,_  
_O castitatis lilium._

_[Instrumental]_

_Kyrie, fons bonitatis._  
_Kyrie, ignis divine, eleison._

_O quam sancta, quam serena,_  
_Quam benigma, quam amoena,_  
_O castitatis lilium._

_'Come Son of The Traitor...let me show you, what your Father has refused _  
_to show you...a world or pleasures untold...' Came a voice, laced with a _  
_startling amount of hunger and bloodlust that nothing would ever quench. _  
_Nothing...on this plain..._

_'Ngn...lay not a hand upon me you lecherous wretch! I do not care to know _  
_what you have to offer! L-Let me be! Unchain me! I said uncha-..' His reply, _  
_though hastened, was cut off by a sudden blow to his stomach. The air _  
_rushed out of his lungs as he fought back the urge to scream, refusing to _  
_give the beast what it so yearned to hear._

_He could only bow his head, allowing the blood that had pooled in his _  
_mouth to trickle down his chin and onto his already crimson stained chest._

_There was a brilliance before those that were observing his _  
_punishment...seeing such a beautiful creature covered in deep wounds, _  
_painted red by the color of his own essence and bound by barbed wire..._  
_It was truly a sight to behold._

_It had been...years since he arrived down here. This Hell._

_Here, time did not stand still. No, it progressed far faster then what was _  
_deemed normal. Down here, in this pit; years could pass. Centuries _  
_even...while up on earth...only days would go by._

_Cruel...is it not?_

_He had endured a Millena of tortures...tortures that would scar the Hunter _  
_for the entirety of his life._

_The silver tresses that were normally kept bound in a pony tail had grown, _  
_gracing his ever changing form. The length had come to be down to his _  
_ankles, hanging in tangles down around him, stained red in various places._

_Truly...he was beautiful._

_'Come now, sweet pet. You mustn't argue with teacher. This is not up for _  
_debate. You will feel the new pleasures I've thought up. I wish to see that _  
_beautiful face enraptured in my delights.' That voice, turned malicious. _  
_There was something laced within that sent a chill through his heart and a _  
_spike through his resolve._

_He was unsure of what would happen...but he knew it would not be pleasa..._  
_Dimmed hues of azure grew wide, shaken by the images that stood beside _  
_that beast that had been torturing him. Those figures weren't meant to be in _  
_this world...it was not meant to be here..._

_'F-Father? Dante?' He shuddered, hope coiled in his heart as he looked up _  
_to them, pulling against the makeshift bonds that dug into his skin._

_'How...how did you come here? Have you a way out? Please...tell me!'_  
_However, as he spoke, dread coiled in his gut at the sight of them looking to _  
_one another, their grins sickening, making him want to wretch. He jolted at _  
_the sight of them stripping, his pulse slowly rising, adrenaline rushing through _  
_his aching form._

_They...they meant to..._

_'F-Father...please...you don't have to do this...fight them...make them stop. _  
_Don't let them do this to me...don't...Dante. Make them see reason!' He _  
_spoke, this time, fear laced his voice, he was terrified, not wishing to endure _  
_this torture. Not this, anything but this._

_The Dark Knight strode over, his gait commanding the attention of those _  
_around them, those observing the torture. He took hold of the silver hair _  
_atop Vergil's head, yanking his head back, making him look up. 'You would _  
_do well to listen to your new Masters.'_

_His eyes snapped wide open, his face quickly paled before a scream tore _  
_from his lips.'N-NOOO!'_

Sitting straight up, he let out a ragged scream that shook the very windows  
in the room he had taken up refuge in. Sweat ran down his body, soaked  
the bedding under him. His face, every inch of him had become pale. That  
memory...that time that he had spent in Hell...would forever haunt him.  
Looking down to the scars covered his hands, wrists, his upper arms...every  
inch of him was scarred. Forever a testament of what he had survived.

What he had escaped from...

But to what cost? To what end?

Was he truly free? Or would Abidel come for him?

Come back to claim his prize?

His stomach lurched, quickly pulling back the sheet, he fought down the urge  
to scream as he limped to the bathroom. Thankful that he had tied back his  
hair, he hunched over the sink as he wretched.

It had been days since he had eaten...he wanted nothing...needed nothing.  
He wished only for those memories to cease. For those touches to go  
away...

The ache to subside.

For it all to end.

When he had finished, he slumped down against the wall, breathing heavily  
as bile ran down his chin. He was a shadow of his former self. This...he had  
to get past it...he had to.

Or his escape would be for naught...


	2. His Second Symphony

_It pained him greatly to continue on with this tirade, he was tired of the agony and he gained nothing from seeing those he loved dearly put through Hell over the torment that he was in. Though the pain was cleansing, to a point, he could not continue this anymore. He had to push through, he had to cease this agony and move toward the future...to regain everything that he had lost, get back everything that had been taken from him. _

_He would right the wrong and it would start with one simple action..._

_Standing infront of the bathroom mirror, sweat rolled down over his brow as he stared at himself in the mirror. This was not him...this was not the man his family knew him as, nor would he wish them to remember him this way. He would have to spend time cleaning himself up. _

_He moved over to the shower, twisting the old nobs, ignoring the faint squeaks as steam had begun to quickly fill the bathroom. He was glad everyone was gone, that he was all alone to tend to this sickening agony. He drew in a breath, watching as he turned the shower on, more then pleased as his hand came in contact with the searing hot water. _

_It was just hot enough to sear off any memories, yet not so hot as to burn his delicate skin. It would not bode well if he burned himself and Dante returned to the wounds...it would prove unfortuitous for him. _

_Stripping out of his clothing and bandages, he let out a breath he had been holding just before he stepped under the flow of hot water. As soon as the water began to rush over his aching person, soothing every inch and every aching muscle, he shuddered. This was what he needed, everything that had been weighting on his shoulders, fell away as he smiled. Beginning to wash his hair, pushing his hair back as he had begun to wash the sweat, dirt and dried blood from his hair and body. _

_He let out a relaxed sigh, trying to sooth the ache in his heart, the one that would remain for last. As he stood there, letting the water cascade over his aching muscles, a determined look flashed over his face. No more. _

_The conversation with Crisis had brought him back, he would not let himself go back to those painful days. He would live for the here and now. He would live for the family he was allowed to be apart of..._

_Grabbing hold of the shower nobs, he shut off the water flow, listening to the water going down the drain for just a moment, before looking to the scars on his arms. Marred as they were, this would not hinder him, he would push through his pain and endure whatever storm of emotion washed over him. _

_Turning on his heel, he strode over to the sink, grabbing a towel from the wrack, he wrapped it around his waist as he looked down at the tools he had collected from Dante's desk. _

_Scissors, straight razor ( like their father used when he shaved) and a hair tie. _

_He examined himself in the mirror, looking at himself one more time before he took hold of the scissors, snipping away the excess hair. He would keep himself as his family knew him...his hair to his shoulders, even cut though, he would ensure they would know him once more. _

_Once that was tended to, he set the scissors down before lathering up his neck and face. Shaving...something he was quite skilled at. One such as him, knew how to wield a blade, so a smaller one was easier to maneuver. He picked up the razor, pulling back the blade as it gleamed in the light. Truly beautiful, not like the one that his Father had used, no. But still beautiful. _

_He took his time, shaving away the hair that had grown in during his time of grief. His eyes narrowed, watching as bruised flesh was revealed. He would not stop, he knew it would anger his brother, but he wished to look like himself once more. _

_As he shaved away every bit of hair, save for the goatee that he had decided to grow, he felt himself returning, bit by bit. _

_Vergil set the razor down after cleaning it off, except for one splotch of blood. He recalled a lesson his Father had taught him and Dante when they were younger._

_'Always leave a little blood on the blade...' _

_His eyes softened as he rinsed off the shaving cream from his face, before looking up at himself, seeing the fading bruises on his cheeks. He sighed, knowing full well it would upset his twin, his counterpart. But this was the end of his pain and he would see to it that this was a new beginning, a new start..._

_His Second Symphony. _


	3. His Last Dance

_Makes me sit and wonder_  
_How you're never bothered_  
_When I say I wanna be free_  
_I was rushing ahead_  
_How could you not see that_  
_Guess you won't miss_  
_What you don't need_

_I promised with every word_  
_That I would tell you the truth_  
_Maybe it went unheard_  
_You could have told me so_  
_I would've never known_

_You're not here_  
_You're not here with me_  
_I guess that means I'm free_

_In and out_  
_I'd rather go without_  
_I can't defend you now_  
_You would have let me down_

_If you find another_  
_Maybe you'll discover_  
_True love just won't get up_  
_And leave_

_I promised with every word_  
_That I would tell you the truth_  
_Maybe it went unheard_  
_You could have told me so_  
_I would've never known_

_You're not here_  
_You're not here with me_  
_I guess that means I'm free_  
_[x3]_

_You're not here_  
_You're not here with me_  
_I guess I just run free_

_The sweet melody filled the shop, emitting from the old jukebox he had finally gotten to work after a half an hour of beating the life out of the poor machine. He had gained the usual screech of protest before the music filled the air. It was the way of things around here...for now...soon things would be better...soon things would work and flow as they should._

_He would ensure it would be so..._

_Thankful that everyone was out of the shop, out doing their daily routines, hanging out with friends or perhaps out to work. He was unsure, the only thing he knew was that he woke up alone, save for Yama. She was forever his wake up call, pulling him back to reality and ensuring that he remain sane. But for how long?_

_Letting out a shaky breath, he changed into a pair of boxer shorts, nothing more than that, as he did not wish to stain anything with sweat. It was his routine when he was working out. To push himself past the brink, push himself until he broke and then pushed himself further._

_Rolling his shoulders, he sauntered up to Dante's weight set that he had purchased for his brother back when he had his own dwelling. They had obviously seen better days, but they stilled glimmered as if they were brand new._

_Picking up one of the weights, he began to work out to the beat, swaying to the beat as he lifted the large barbells over his head, the sound of clinking echoed beautifully along with the music. Normally his face would be a mask of determination as he worked out. But now...he could feel a grin splaying over his lips, a hunger boiled within._

_This was a dance he that he had been working towards, where he could have what he deserved, where he could have what he needed. What he desired._

_Letting his eyes drift shut, he began to spin the barbel with one hand, rather effectively. Managing to keep his balance as he danced. Hips swaying to the music, twirling the barbel around his body in sync with the music, the drum beat, the rhythm was most suited to him. _

_Sweat rolled down his body, his muscles clenching and twitching as he pushed himself harder and harder, refusing to give in, refusing to let anything stop him, refusing to let anything push him into the dirt. He would make it past this trial and make something of himself._

_Bringing the weight to halt, he set it back down upon the wrack, before walking over to the large bar that was used for pull ups. Grabbing it both hands, he began to lift himself up, briefly struggling, feeling his shoulders tense, a scream tore from his lips as he fought down the pain, refusing to let himself fall prey to the agony._

_Clenching his jaw, he gathered his strength, pushing down the sob rising in his throat._

_This was his last dance...his last try to live life..._

_He would not surrender._


	4. We Are Coming

( All of the songs I have posted in my work, I apologize for now crediting the authors. Half asleep when I was writing all of this. I am not fixing my mistake.

Chapter 1: Song Name Lilium - Elfed Lied ( I can't recall the one who sings it. _" Don't judge me. )

Chapter Three : Song Name: Freedom - Claire Maguire

Again, sorry for the confusion folks. Enjoy the new Chapter! )

( This song is by Maroon 5 ft, Rozzi Crane - Come Away To The Water )

_Come away little loss_  
_Come away to the water_  
_To the ones that are waiting only for you_  
_Come away little loss_  
_Come away to the water_  
_Away from the life that you always knew_  
_We are calling to you_  
_Come away little light_  
_Come away to the darkness_  
_In the shade of the night we'll come looking for you_  
_Come away little light_  
_Come away to the darkness_  
_To the ones appointed to see it through_  
_We are calling for you_  
_We are coming for you_

_Come away little lamb_  
_Come away to the water_  
_Give yourself so we might live anew_  
_Come away little lamb_  
_Come away to the slaughter_  
_To the ones appointed to see this through_  
_We are calling for you_  
_We are coming for you_

_Come away little lamb_  
_Come away to the water_  
_To the arms that are waiting only for you_  
_Come away little lamb come away to the slaughter_  
_To the one appointed to see this through_  
_We are calling for you_  
_We are coming for you_  
_We are coming for you_  
_We are coming for you_

_Having drifted off to sleep to the gentle rhythm of the tunes coming out of the old Jukebox, he had set up a soothing track list, choosing records he knew weren't over loaded with heavy metal music, or anything that would startle anyone in the house awake. Merely wanting soft music, something to sooth the ache in his chest, to quell the timber of the drum beat in his heart. _

_He wanted a moment to relax, a moment to ease the pain, to see if he could pull himself back together, to see if he could quell the anger he felt, the sleepless nights he was forced to endure. _

_The original plan for the evening was to solve the dilemma of his heart, to go over just how why his life was the way it was, why he could never find a bit of happiness. Why he could not just heal the pain that lay just beneath the surface. _

_But it did not go that way, as soon as he laid back on the couch, he was lulled off to sleep by the gentle rumble of the music, the sweet pitter patter of rain on the roof and the hum of the electric sign outside. As his eye lids fell shut, he rolled over, silver hair tousling as he did so. _

_The music did nothing to keep the nightmares away, the hungry demons in his mind that always laid in wait, watching, always watching, wanting to see if his guards was down. Wanting to strike when he was at his weakest. And now...he was, he was..._

_He was alone, hurting and for the first time in years, without someone to lay beside him. for now, he was a pulsing target. _

_And they were coming for him..._


End file.
